


Reboot

by knitekat



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apocalypse, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitekat/pseuds/knitekat
Summary: Can the Nick, Stephen and Lester stop the end of the world after the future predators escape Leek's bunker?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to Fififolle for the beta.
> 
> Based on an art prompt, but I didn't manage to finish it before the challenge closed.

Reading and signing off on reports didn’t stop just because the world was ending and I had been making steady progress with the contents of my in-tray. Had been but not now, for the unnatural quietness of the ARC had worn on my concentration until I was spending more time looking at the door than I did reading the latest Special Forces requisition. I found my thoughts turning to the last time I’d been all alone in the ARC and… I rose abruptly and left my office, my steps taking me around the ARC, accompanied only by the humming of equipment. I did consider turning the lights off for a moment but I left them on, the bill might be extortionate but I had no wish to be left in darkness. I continued to prowl around the ARC until I arrived at a rest-room and I paused when my stomach rumbled. 

On investigation I discovered the contents of the rest-room were abysmally lacking – the fruit was wrinkled and soft, the cheese mouldy and the bread looked as if it might apply to the UN for membership at any moment. A rummage in the cupboards produced an unopened box of sugary cereal and I prayed the milk was still fresh when I located a pilfered jar of my coffee hidden in the back. At least something was going in my favour when I opened the milk bottle and sniffed it. 

Sitting down on a comfortable chair, waiting for my coffee to cool and munching on tooth-rotting cereal gave me too much time to think. I spotted the television and switched it on, although I kept it on mute so I could listen out for danger, even if I was jumping at the slightest sound. I glared at the fridge before I turned my attention back to the television.

Static filled the screen and my finger hovered over the off button before I pressed the channel search feature instead. It was only when the static flickered that I realised it had been on a pre-set channel, just one which had ceased to broadcast. I tried again, channel after channel of static, almost driven to find a station still broadcasting. I wondered why I persisted, was I hoping someone would appear, announcing that the disaster was over? I snorted, knowing it was far more likely that I did it in some twisted attempt at penance for my failure. What I did know was that an increasing number of channels showed only static as they had gone off air one-by-one and I almost cried out when I finally found one still broadcasting.

My euphoria was short lived, for the muted image was typical of so many – far too many – that I’d watched in the past week or so. The street it showed was deserted, strewn with litter and personal belongings left behind in the panic. A car had been abandoned beneath a flickering street light, the passenger door gaping open and I could only hope the occupants had reached safety when they’d fled. Except I knew what they’d been running from, I had experienced that terror first hand. My thoughts returned to that moment which had haunted my nights before I winced and realised my hand was now resting on the still livid and tender scars concealed beneath my suit. 

I took a calming breath and forced that memory away, turning my attention back to the television, when I tensed at a faint scuffle coming from the corridor. I held my breath as I concentrated on listening, almost relaxing when I hear it again. The sound of someone – or something - moving quietly towards me. I drew the pistol I had carried ever since bloody Leek had tried to kill me within these very walls and moved away from the door, cursing myself for being in a room with only one exit. I could do nothing except wait, half-expecting to see my nightmare come alive before my eyes. My finger began to tighten on the trigger before I muttered, “Verify targets,” to myself. I waited, barely breathing, for whoever – whatever it was to come into view. 

I felt almost giddy with relief when Cutter strode into the room, Hart on his heels. Both stopped sharply when they realised I was pointing the business end of a pistol at them and I almost laughed at the looks on their faces. I gave myself a mental shake, fearing any laugh I uttered would border on the hysterical, and instead forced myself to lower my arm and loosen my white-knuckled grip on the pistol. I took the scant seconds it took me to re-holster it to put my facade firmly back in place. 

It was only when I felt completely in control that I turned my attention back to them. My gaze took them in head-to-foot and I allowed my lip to curl at their dishevelled and grimy state. Of course they hadn’t bothered clearing up before reporting in, but rather than start another pointless argument with Cutter, I instead said, “I had hoped you’d make it back.” After all, that had been one of the reasons I had remained at the ARC, it really wouldn’t have been form if they’d returned with the solution to our problem only to find the ARC deserted. “Well? Did you find her?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow in polite enquiry, even though I doubted they had. Oh, I admit it was possible they’d had a moment of common sense and locked her up before coming to find me, but it was extremely unlikely. 

Cutter opened his mouth before shaking his head, obviously thinking better of whatever it was he had been going to say. Instead he glanced at Hart before answering my question. “Helen’s long gone.”

“If she was ever there,” Hart added, his suspicious gaze darting around the rest-room.

I nodded, it had always been a long shot but Helen might have held the answer to our current predicament, especially as she’d caused it. Of course, convincing her to help might have been difficult but… well, that wouldn’t have been my problem. No, the government had experts for that – after all, I had been one, once and in another life. I shook my head, now was not the time to dwell on dark deeds, and frowned at Cutter and Hart. If they hadn’t found a trace of Helen, what the hell had kept them so long? I’d almost given up hope they’d make it back before I had to leave for my meeting. “You took your time.”

“It’s a fucking nightmare out there,” Hart snapped back, his gaze burning on me for a moment before he returned to scanning the area for any danger. 

“I have read the reports, gentlemen,” I informed them, ignoring the looks on both their faces as I turned back to the image on the screen. Even if I hadn’t read them, the news still being broadcast told the same story. Mostly, for there were still a few channels claiming it was all propaganda and people believed. Who wouldn’t? Even if not one of them thought to question why anyone would make up such an outlandish hoax. “We’ve lost London,” I told them before turning back to face them. “They’re spreading out across the country. The French had already collapsed their entrance to the Channel Tunnel and mined the rubble.” As if that would stop what was coming. 

“Where is everyone?”

Hart burst out with the question I had been waiting for one of them to ask. I bit back a sigh, even after everything that had happened, the distrust was clearly audible in his voice, but I saw little point in remarking upon it, not considering the situation. “I’ve sent everyone I could away,” I replied, hearing the loss and bitterness in my voice. How could I not? I knew I hadn’t sent anyone away to safety… Not unless Lorraine managed to liaise with my European contacts and convince them that they only had one choice if anyone wanted to survive this bloody nightmare. 

“Lester?”

Cutter’s voice broke through my thoughts, his voice gentle, full of understanding and I shook my head, I couldn’t handle compassion, not now. “No, Cutter,” I said, my voice almost normal. “I should have acted faster, I should have...” The number of people I had managed to send with Lorraine had been pitiful, those I had failed numbered far higher. “I should have done more.” 

“You did the best you could, man,” Cutter tried again and I wondered for a moment when he’d become so observant of people before I remembered that my facade had slipped. “The bloody minister wouldn’t listen to you.”

I snorted at that, for once not caring about professionalism. Of course the minister hadn’t, the man was an imbecile, but that didn’t absolve me of my responsibility. I barely suppressed my wince when my chest twinged as I took a deep breath, knowing there was little point dwelling on my failure when I still had a job to do. 

“Where is he anyway?” Hart asked, his opinion of my current political master clear. “Safe and sound and leaving us to solve his problem for him before he swoops in to claim the credit?”

“The government had moved to France,” I said, my opinion of them equally clear in my voice. “From where they will continue to run the country.”

“Saving their own skins,” Hart muttered in disgust.

“They’re politicians.” I knew the minister believed he was safe in France, that the protocols in place would prevent any incursion, but I’d spent my entire career planning for the worst. The Channel Tunnel was a weak point, even caved in and mined, but it wasn’t the only one, every boat carrying refugees from these blighted shores might harbour a Predator. Oh, I’m sure they’d be searched, but all it would take would be a few Predators making landfall and… As I had no wish to contemplate what would happen then I turned my attention to Cutter. “I do hope you have another plan, Professor, because I’m running out of arguments against the current one.”

“Plan?” Hart asked, turning to face me as he demanded, “What plan?”

“One that I don’t agree with, Dr Hart,” I replied, wondering just what would convince him that I was not the enemy? Still, I saw little reason to keep it from them, not now. “The United Nation’s Security Council have decided a tactical nuclear strike on London is the best response to this global threat.”

“What?” Hart scoffed. “We destroy the world to save it?”

I fully agreed with Hart’s sentiments, it was why I’d argued against the plan. I could, however, understand why the Security Council had made that decision. “They’re desperate.”

“They’re idiots,” Hart snapped back.

I nodded before I turned my attention back to the suspiciously quiet Cutter. “Have we got a plan, Cutter?” I had hoped he hadn’t put all his hopes in one Helen bloody Cutter, but that was obviously asking for too much. “For once, just once, couldn’t someone else have a plan B?” 

“Yes.”

“I...” I stopped, blinking at Cutter before recovering my poise. “One that I can present to the Security Council?” I asked, sighing when my question was met with silence. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”

“We go back.” Cutter spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly that I knew the mule-headed man had already made his mind up, it was just a pity he hadn’t thought to discuss his idea with me first. 

“Back where?” I asked, before my thoughts turned to the conversation I’d had with Ms Lewis after the ‘Bunker Incident’. Cutter couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did, could he?

“We go back and change the past.” Cutter jabbed a finger at the image on the television. “We stop this from ever happening.”

Apparently he did. Still, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what he was saying. “We… do what? I didn’t think you wanted to risk the past?”

“We’re a bit bloody past that now, Lester. We’ve lost!” Cutter almost shouted in my face before quietening. “I’ve seen the projections. Total extinction within the year if they get out of the UK.”

I’d seen the same data and it was even worse than Cutter thought, extinction was swiftly coming for humanity, whether by nuclear fallout or the claws of a Predator. As much as it pained me to admit it, Cutter’s plan might be the only sane solution.

“How do you even know if we can change the past?” Hart asked. It was clear from his shocked expression that this was the first he’d heard of Cutter’s plan. All rather typical of the man, in my opinion. 

“Helen,” I said slowly, earning myself a shocked look from Cutter as well as a confused one from Hart. 

“Helen? How did you...” Cutter almost stumbled over his words. 

“Ms Lewis was there when you meet your delightful wife in the bunker.” At Hart’s frown, I added, “When she told Ms Lewis she used to be someone called ‘Claudia Brown’.” I tilted my head slightly as I considered Cutter before deciding to offer an olive branch to him. “I might have judged your sanity a little too hastily, Professor.”

“Aye,” Cutter said before giving a sharp nod. “I’d have doubted someone coming to me with that story too, man.”

So good of the professor to finally concede to that. He was bloody lucky I had needed him too much to have him sectioned. “Excellent.” I clapped my hands together to assure I had their full attention. “Now we’re all one happy family again, would you care to explain your plan, Cutter?”

Cutter hesitated for a long moment, I assumed in surprise that I was even considering his plan, but he finally appeared to gather his thoughts. “The Forest of Dean is the key point to events, along with the anomaly there to the Permian. Especially as it moved through time – the first time we went though, we found a camp.” 

“I do remember the briefing,” I said, injecting boredom into my tone in the hope, vain I expected, of Cutter getting to the point. It merely added to my belief that Cutter loved the sound of his own voice, no doubt the reason he’d become a lecturer in the first place, for all that he appeared not to like actually teaching his students. 

“And,” Cutter spoke somewhat louder, probably not appreciating my interruption. “The second time we went through we made that camp. That end of the anomaly isn’t fixed in time and I believe we can use it to alter events.”

I nodded, recalling that report too. I frowned as something occurred to me.

“Lester?” Hart asked, ever-preceptive, as long as it wasn’t anything related to the Cutters. 

“If you found the camp on your first visit,” I said slowly, trying to put my worry into words. “But only made it on your second, doesn’t that mean it was...” I trailed off, the only word I could think of distasteful to me.

“Predestined?” Cutter helpfully supplied the word I’d been avoiding.

“Precisely,” I agreed. “And wouldn’t that imply that we can’t change the past?”

“Except time did change when Claudia became Jenny,” Cutter pointed out and I felt able to breathe. “I believe,” he continued, “that one or more of the baby Predators survived, at least for a while. Something they did caused events to play out differently in this reality than in the one I came from.”

“It still seems rather far-fetched that an event millions of years in the past changed just one thing,” I said. Trying to wrap my mind around time travel always threatened to give me a migraine.

“There were other changes.” Cutter took on a stance I recognised from his lectures. “Apart from Claudia becoming Jenny, and Leek,” he paused when I swore under my breath. “Leek becoming your assistant. In my world, England won the 1966 World Cup. Mount Waugh is known as Mount Everest. The first man on the moon was Neil Armstrong, an American. I could go on.”

“Please don’t,” I said almost at the same moment Hart almost demanded, “And you want to change them back?”

“I believe that if we can stop the baby Predators escaping then time will reset to what it should have been.”

“Assuming that ‘your world’ was the ‘correct’ reality,” I said, making sure the sarcasm was clear in my voice. 

“I still don’t see how that would help.” A mixture of confusion and distrust was evident in Hart’s tone.

I could see where Cutter was going with his thoughts but, well, I would be a poor Director of the ARC if I didn’t consider all sides of a problem. “Just because _Leek_ ,” and I knew my voice betrayed my intense dislike for the bloody man, “won't be in a position to aid Helen in her madness doesn’t mean she won’t recruit some other useful idiot to help her.” I resisted the urge to glance towards Hart, even if he had been struck by a moment of common sense and informed Cutter of Helen’s visits. 

Cutter deflated somewhat at my words. “What do you suggest we do then? Wait for your bloody political masters to nuke us?”

“No,” I said, pausing as I considered the two men in front of me. If anyone had told me even a month ago that the fate of the world would be in their hands… “I suggest we attempt your plan. At least the going back in the past part. Whether it is Leek or someone else, you will know Helen’s plan.” I paused to gauge their… Cutter’s reaction, knowing my next words would not be received well by him. “Of course, if it is Leek helping her, we know exactly where his bunker is and what his plan is. It would be easier if we kept the changes, Cutter… Nick.”

“What?” Cutter exploded exactly as I had expected him to.

 

“He’s right,” Hart said, causing me to sigh. Of course he’d agree with Cutter. Hart’s next words had both Cutter and myself staring at him in disbelief. “I mean Lester’s right.” He gave a little self-deprecating smile as he met my shocked gaze before turning to Cutter, his voice full of pleading, I believe for Cutter to understand him, maybe even to forgive him. “As Lester’s said, we know where Leek’s bunker is, if we act at the right moment, we could stop the Predators from ever escaping. We could save everyone, Nick!”

“No.” Cutter, the stubborn fool, shook his head. “No, we can’t.”

“Can’t what?” I demanded. “Save everyone? Is this Claudia Brown worth the lives of every man, woman and child that’s died since that day?”

“No, and she’d be the first to say it,” Cutter admitted. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then please enlighten us, Professor.” Bloody hell, the man could never give a straight answer. 

“We can’t stop the Predators escaping.”

“What!” I thought that was what his entire mad plan was about. 

Cutter rubbed his face, suddenly looking haggard. “I read the reports from the bunker.”

“That must have been a first,” I couldn’t resist muttering, earning myself a brief wry grin from Hart. 

“As I was saying,” Cutter spoke louder as he gave me a look I assumed was meant to be intimidating. “I read the reports, Abby’s in particular. She mentioned the creatures were trained to respond to a feeding siren.”

“I fail to see the problem, we can obviously use this siren to attract the creatures.”

“Maybe. When Helen showed me around, Leek didn’t have the Predators caged. He trusted his neural controllers to keep them obedient.” 

“Much good it did him,” I muttered somewhat gleefully, earning myself looks from both men. “Your point is?” I asked when Cutter seemed somewhat tongue-tied.

“I have no idea if the Predators even associate that room with food.”

“And no reason to enter it?” I half-asked, half-stated. Damn, so much for that plan.

Cutter nodded. “But that’s not the main problem.”

“Good grief, Cutter,” I snapped. “You couldn’t have led with that?”

“Because I don’t see a way around it,” Cutter said slowly. “When I downloaded Connor’s virus onto Leek’s mainframe, it short-circuited the entire system. Including the controls for the siren.”

“Ah,” I said, understanding what Cutter meant, for Temple’s virus was also the only reason my team had managed to escape with their lives. 

“There might be a way,” Hart said quietly, almost to himself. 

“How?” I asked, wondering what I’d missed. 

“Someone could set the siren off manually,” Hart replied. 

“Maybe,” I allowed. “But, apart from the logistics of doing so, how does that help with the Predators?”

Hart looked briefly at Cutter. “Someone could also attract their attention and lead them to the cage room.”

“I’ve been chased by a single Predator, Hart,” I pointed out, meeting Hart’s eyes and cursing when I saw his determination. Just what I bloody needed. “I barely survived and then only with the help of a mammoth.”

“Look.” Hart turned his full attention on me, even if I had no idea why, it wasn’t as if convincing me would convince Cutter, the man never followed my orders if he had a _better_ idea. “It makes sense. The only way to stop them escaping is to trap them in that cage room and this is the only way I can see we can do it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys continue to plan what to do to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fififolle for the beta

“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” I said, not that I believed stating his plan out loud would convince Hart of its idiocy. “You plan to, somehow, attract the attention of 20 or so Predators by wandering around Leek’s base without getting killed before leading them, Pied Piper fashion, to the cage room. Where you will somehow hold them off long enough to activate the feeding siren and wait for the other creatures to arrive. Then you expect to be able to lock one door before making it unharmed across the entire fifty foot room full of dangerous man-killers and escape through the opposite door? Who do you think you are?” I almost demanded. 

“I was planning on activating the siren first, it will be safer once the creatures are locked in the cage room,” Hart said, obviously feeling it was a reasonable reply. 

“Safer?” I muttered in disbelief. “Do you have any idea how to attract that number of Predators without them killing you?”

“I’ll think of something,” Hart replied. 

“Really? Are you...” 

I was cut off by Cutter’s, “The Predators only escaped because I short-circuited Leek’s control over them, if I don’t...”

“Nick!” Hart cut in, reaching out to grab Cutter. “You can’t, they’d rip you apart limb from limb.”

“If it saves the world,” Cutter said simply. 

I sometimes wondered who I’d pissed off to be landed with two such suicidally-courageous idiots. “And then Leek gets his own personal army to terrorise everyone with?” I paused for a moment before adding, “And how long would he be able to control them before they escaped and killed everyone anyway? He might even send them to other countries and the world would be even worse off when they do escape.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Hart rounded on me.

“I’m sure you’ll find an alternative,” I murmured, knowing I had to stop this discussion before we spent the next week going around in circles. A week we didn’t have and, with time running out, I clapped me hands together to gain their attention. “Chop, chop, gentlemen. you’ve got a reality to change and a world to save.”

“Aren’t you coming?” Hart asked, surprising me considering I didn’t believe he liked me, he certainly didn’t trust me.

“Someone’s got to hold the fort,” I told him, my thoughts already turning to the number of tasks I had to complete before my meeting with the Security Council.

“You’ll die!” Cutter stated bluntly. “Either the Predators or...”

“You have a poor opinion of my abilities, Professor,” I cut in, although I couldn’t say I was surprised by his outburst, Cutter never had held a high opinion of me.

“No, Lester… James,” Cutter continued as if I hadn’t interrupted him. “Don’t die here just to make amends for something you couldn’t prevent.”

“Cutter...” I began, how dare he compare me to them, I, after all, had a plan.

“No!” Cutter glanced at Hart for a moment before nodding. “Either we all go or we all stay.”

I couldn’t help smiling at his words. “I’m not, thank God, you, Cutter,” I said, although I had to swallow hard before I could continue, “And you are no Captain Ryan.”

“Look,” Cutter said, running a hand through his hair and leaving it looking somewhat surprised. “We need you with us.” 

I couldn’t imagine why, after all, Cutter had made it clear he considered me nothing more than a pencil-pushing government hatchet-man. It appeared Hart agreed with me when he muttered, “We do?” and earned himself a glare from Cutter. 

“Yes, we do.” Cutter looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking. “Look, Lester, when the timeline change originally occurred, you didn’t believe me. You thought I was mad or having a breakdown or something.”

“Well, yes,” I admitted cautiously, wondering where he was going with his argument and why he was suddenly so concerned about what happened to me. We had never really been friends, even in this doomed world.

“So,” Cutter continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Just what do you think your reaction would be if Stephen and I just turned up and told you Helen would cause the end of the world?”

“I’d probably section you,” I told him before adding, “However, we have enough evidence here to convince even the most sceptical and I would judge myself harshly if I’d sent you through without proof.”

Cutter let out an exasperated noise, one that had me wondering once again why he was so persistent in his attempt to get me to accompany them. “Look, Lester, even if we took all the evidence we could, there is nothing to stop someone.”

“You,” Hart cut in. “Or Leek if he is still there.”

“Someone,” Cutter said loudly, glaring Hart into silence. “Saying it is fake. That we made it all up.”

“And why would you?” I asked, even though I agreed their story would appear far-fetched and that I, for one, would not believe them if I hadn’t already known the truth. However, that just meant I would have to ensure the evidence I provided them with was the absolute best I could find, evidence that would stand up to whatever tests my counterpart could subject it to.

“Look,” Cutter yelled before forcing himself to calm down. “It would make all our lives easier if you just came with us. You’d be in charge of the ARC. You could help us behind the scenes. Helen and Leek would never believe we could be working together.”

“Before all this happened, would you?” I asked. Considering how much Hart still distrusted me, how often Cutter and I argued, no one would ever think for a second that we could be be allies.

“I might not like you,” Hart began.

“Or trust me?” I added, hearing those words even though Hart hadn’t uttered them.

“Or that,” Hart agreed quite happily. “But Nick’s right. It would be easier if you’re with us. You’d already know we’ll telling the truth and could help us, rather than us having to waste time trying to convince you.” He frown for a moment before adding, “And that would increase the risk of Helen’s accomplice finding out and telling Helen we know her plan. We could still fail!” 

“Maybe,” I conceded, after all, things would – probably be easier if we weren’t working at cross-purposes and Hart was right about the risk of Helen finding out and changing her plans. “But you’ve forgotten one thing.”

“What?” Cutter sounded exasperated. “Why do you want to stay in this world? You’ll die!”

I had no plans to die, especially not if Lorraine had followed through with my plans and she had never failed me. I knew I had to convince Cutter but I couldn’t tell him the truth, if only because it was unsanctioned by my so-called superiors and they’d do their best to stop us if they discovered what I – what we had planned. Not that I needed to as I had another answer to his question. “What you’ve forgotten,” I repeated, “is that I’ve never been through an anomaly.”

“Maybe it’s time to change that,” Cutter replied, sounding rather tired.

“As I was saying,” I pronounced each word clearly, hoping they’d get through Cutter’s thick skull. “I’ve never been through an anomaly. How would we explain a second James Lester turning up through an anomaly?” I paused, making sure both men understood that before I continued, “We’d be locked up and the key thrown away. We’d never have the chance to stop the Predators. Anything we told our captors would be dismissed out of hand as one of Helen’s plots.” I shook my head, hoping Cutter would just agree. “No, you need to go without me, it is our only chance to stop this apocalypse.”

“I...” Cutter began before shaking his head and I knew he was still going to try and convince me to go with them, the man really was far too stubborn for his own good. “Look, when I came through, I replaced myself in this world. I’m hoping it will work the same way.”

I just stared at him. “Can I point out you ‘swapped’ places with a Nicholas Cutter who had also stepped through an anomaly. I haven’t been through one,” I repeated, almost smiling at him when I added, “You’re grasping at straws, Professor.”

“I know,” Cutter replied. “But we’ve got to try. Stephen’s right about needing you there, on our side from the start.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, raising a hand before Cutter could think he’d won this argument. “Yes, I agree if I was there that the risk of Helen’s double agent finding out we knew about her plan would be considerably reduced, however,” I paused, knowing Cutter wasn’t going to give up, even with the risk of there being two of me, and I cast about for another argument. “Even if I did somehow ‘replace’ myself, there is no way of knowing if I’d still be in a position to help you. I might not be in charge of the ARC. I might not even be supposed to know about it.”

“Are you telling me you couldn’t claw your way back up the greasy pole?” Hart muttered. 

I decided to take the higher ground and ignore Hart’s comment. “And that doesn’t help if I’m...” I trailed off, unsure how to finish my sentence.

“Leek’s assistant?” Hart suggested, obviously enjoying the thought of me being at Leek’s bloody beck-and-call. I was going to ignore him, knowing it would only encourage him, when he added, “Which would make you the traitor.”

“For the last bloody time,” I snarled. “I’m not working with Helen. Why the hell would I be?”

“Not here,” Cutter said, a thoughtful look on his face. “But you might be there… and that could give us an advantage.”

I just stared at them for a moment, reluctantly acknowledging Cutter’s logic, before I remembered my carefully thought out argument. “As I recall, you were the only one who survived the events in the Permian.” I paused, almost overwhelmed as I remembered who I’d lost that day, but now was not the time for regret. “The only one who changed...”

“Timelines?” Cutter suggested when I paused, searching for a suitable word.

“Timelines,” I agreed. “Was you, not Hart and certainly not me.”

“Look,” Cutter said firmly. “The point it, I can’t do this alone. I need help.” Several expressions crossed his face in quick secession before he grinned. “And if the three of us go through, we’ve already changed something.”

“So take Hart with you,” I said, grimacing as I sipped my now-cold coffee. 

“No,” Cutter said before glancing at Hart when he made a noise. “I mean, obviously Hart’s coming with me.” He paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we need you with us as well.” He took a step towards me. “I’m not leaving you here to die, James.” 

I glanced at the two men before biting back a sigh, Cutter was more stubborn than a mule and Hart, for all that he distrusted me, would follow Cutter’s lead. I knew neither man would leave me here, they’d let the world burn first and well, I couldn’t have that. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Cutter said, suspicion clear in his voice.

“Fine,” I repeated, adding, “I’ll come,” just to make sure Cutter understood.

“You will?” Hart said, clearly not believing me either.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Bloody hell, what do you want? Something signed in blood?”

“No,” Cutter said smiling. “Your word will do.”

When Cutter folded his arms and just stared at me, I knew he’d stand there until I gave my word to him. “Fine, you have my word.” I fixed both infuriating men with one of my sternest looks. “Now, I suggest you organise supplies for our little trip.” I noticed Hart’s grin at the distaste I put into those final words. 

“And what will you be doing?” Cutter queried, obviously wanting to make sure I didn’t make a run for it… although quite where he thought I’d go in this doomed world, I had no idea. He was like a bloody dog with a bone, even once he had got his own way. 

“I, Cutter, will be downloading and copying the proof we will need to convince people.” I paused before adding, “Including myself if there does end up being two of me.”

I glanced at Hart when he groaned, quirking an eyebrow before I rolled my eyes when he simply said, “One of you is more than enough.”

“Chop, chop, gentlemen.” I glanced at my watch. “The PM is due in conference with the Security Council and without my input...” I allowed my words to trail off when both Cutter’s and Hart’s eyes widened in understanding.

“Fuck!” Hart exclaimed. “We’re on a deadline to get to the anomaly?”

“Of course,” I replied as I washed and dried my cutlery and crockery. I turned back to them. “Do hurry up, gentlemen, I haven’t got all day.” I walked out of the rest-room and turned down the corridor which would take me back to my office. I used that time to consider what evidence to take to prove Cutter’s – our – outlandish story. That and I knew I would also need to contact Lorraine and inform her of my change in plans, that she would now be in charge of the evacuation.

***

I froze for a second when the shrill sound of a perimeter breach alarm sounded, before grabbing the files I had selected and placed them inside my briefcase. My gaze kept being drawn back to my door as I waited for my computer to finish copying the final files onto a memory stick. A loud clang had me jumping, almost snatching the memory stick before it was ready. I took a deep breath to calm myself, wincing slightly as it pulled my scar, and drew my pistol. My gaze was locked on the door as I waited the seemingly never-ending seconds for the download to be completed.

I pocketed the memory stick before taking the time to close my computer down properly, the end of the world was no reason to cut corners. I paused for a moment before I opened a drawer in my desk and pocketed the ammunition clips within. I took the time for a final look around my office, mentally checking that I had everything I needed, before nodding and moving towards the door, my briefcase in one hand and the pistol in the other. Thankful that the door was reinforced glass, I peered outside before cautiously opening it and stepping out onto the balcony, remembering when I’d done this before, when fucking Leek had set a trap for me inside my own building. I swallowed, knowing my mammoth was gone, taken to safety by Lorraine along with the rest of the menagerie. If a Predator was within these walls, I had only my pistol for protection – oh, and two scientists. 

I slowly descended the ramp, every nerve stretched to near breaking point, my gaze darting everywhere for danger. I jumped as a second clang sounded, backing slowly down the ramp before spinning in case whatever it was had appeared behind me. It took all my willpower to walk slowly, the urge to run almost overwhelming as the memory of that day resurfaced. Except I knew I couldn’t run, not when I had no idea what might be roaming the ARC and not when Cutter and Hart were supposed to meet me here. It would be far more dangerous to end up searching for each other, not to mention wasting time we didn’t have. 

I spun when I heard a scuffle behind me, stepping backwards to open up space between whatever had made that sound and myself, reminding myself that I couldn’t fire until I identified my target. It really wouldn’t do to shoot one of my new allies… or for that matter, anyone the minister might have despatched to look for me, considering I was late for our meeting. Bloody hell, where were Cutter and Hart? Movement to my left had me whirling to face it, my finger tightening on the trigger. 

I jerked the pistol to one side, barely keeping from firing it, when I found myself, once again, face-to-face with a surprised-looking Cutter. “Fuck!” I hissed through my teeth as my pounding heart slowed. 

“Come on,” Hart said, amusement dancing in his eyes, I assume in reaction to my swearing.

I frowned when I recognised the weapon clutched in his hands. “Hart? Are we expecting Moby Dick?”

“What?” Hart asked before following my gaze. “Um. It was the first thing I grabbed when the alarm sounded.” He shrugged. “It might come in useful.”

“Mmm.” That sounded suspiciously as if he hadn’t noticed immediately, not until it had been too late to exchange it for a more useful weapon. I glanced at Cutter, noting that he was more sensibly armed. “Did you obtain a weapon for me?”

“Er,” Cutter mumbled. 

I allowed myself the luxury of an eye roll. “So, we have a pistol, a rifle and a harpoon gun? Lets just hope we don’t encounter too many unfriendlies, shall we?

“Have you got the evidence?” Cutter demanded.

“I have,” I replied in my haughtiest tones, clearly implying that I had done my part in the plan, even if they’d failed to organise supplies for our little trip.

“Look,” Hart cut in, clearly hoping to stop an impending argument. “We can worry about weapons later.” He glanced around the atrium before continuing, “Something set the alarm off, we need to leave before it gets here.”

I nodded. Hart was correct and it was time to leave, before either a Predator showed up, or one of the minister’s men, and either would slow down our departure, if not stop us. Cutter muttered something in, I assumed, Scottish, but he gave a stiff nod of argument too.

“I do hope your Hilux is fuelled and ready, Cutter.” I started to walk towards the garage without waiting for him to answer, every sense alert for whatever danger we might encounter.

“My car?” Cutter said, surprise clear in his voice.

I turned and gave him a look, one I had perfected over the years to show I clearly doubted the intelligence of the individual I used it on. “I’m hardly going to take my Mercedes to the Forest of Dean.”

“Wait up.”

I turned at Hart’s voice, only then noticing the extra backpack on the floor beside him, black and well-used. It would clash with my suit… Bloody hell, I really wasn’t dressed to go tramping about in the Forest of Dean or the Permian. Not that my sartorial concerns should be my top priority at the moment and I quirked an expectant eyebrow at Hart. I almost smiled when he muttered something I assumed wasn’t complimentary as he bent down to pick up ‘my’ backpack. 

It was only when Hart straightened and I saw his eyes widening that I realised we had all lowered our guards. I heard and felt something splat on my suit as I spun and moved backwards, feeling the disgusting mess slide down my back. I cursed my rookie mistake when I realised I had stopped in the garage doorway and looked upwards, almost freezing at the sight of my nightmare clinging to the ceiling like some sort of grotesque bat, it clicked, using its sonar to zero in on me. More drops of saliva dripped onto the floor around me, one landing on my highly polished Italian brogues and I only shook off my shock when Hart yelled at me to move. 

I threw myself backwards at the same moment it leapt at me. I fired point-blank at it and saw red blossom on its chest, but I knew I hadn’t stopped it, not when even an FN M249 PARAtrooper hadn’t managed to drop one. Time seemed to slow down and I could see every detail so clearly as the Predator came at me. The pores scattered over its skin, the sharp teeth gleaming in its jaws, the claws glistening with red, droplets flying as its arm finished a sweep. I felt pain explode in my chest and then I was falling, the floor cold and hard beneath me. I felt my hand strike the floor and heard my pistol clatter out of my grip. I could hear distant yells but my attention was fixed on the Predator looming over me. I watched as saliva slithered down those sharp teeth until the drops hung precariously above me, threatening at any moment to splatter onto my suit. I felt its breath on my face, the stench of rotten meat filled my nostrils and made me want to gag. I swallowed convulsively, I might be about to die here but I refused to face my death with anything but dignity. I watched as it reared back, the gory claws raised once more as my blood dripped from them to patter onto the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester, Nick and Stephen put their plan into action and head to the Forest of Dean anomaly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fifiolle for the beta

My training finally overcame the shock paralysing my body and I scrabbled away from it, my smooth-soled shoes slipping on the floor. My hand reached out blindly for the pistol I had dropped, knowing it was my only chance, poor that it was, of surviving this encounter without the mammoth.

I frowned when I heard the distant crash of thunder, only realising it was gunfire when the Predator staggered as red blossomed against the grey of its hide. More red appeared on it as the Predator lunged at me again and I knew this was it. I cried out as it landed on me, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. I just lay on the floor, gasping for air and half expecting the Predator to rip my heart out. I took longer than I would ever want to admit to realise it was dead and to recall the presence of Cutter and Hart.

“Lester?” Cutter called out, kneeling beside me and I felt him tap my cheek as I just stared at the toothy maw of the Predator. “James?” he repeated, his worried voice cutting through the daze I seemed to have fallen in, I believed from a mix of shock and the adrenalin fading from my system. “Quick! Stephen, help me get it off him.”

I admit I grunted when the Predator was dragged away and then I felt hands on my chest. I winced when my shirt was torn open, did they – I blinked and Hart’s face swam into view – did Hart had any idea how much it had cost? Not that I had the opportunity to inform him as he pressed a dressing down hard on my injury, forcing a cry from my lips. “You’re bloody lucky,” he muttered. 

I eyed him in disbelief before managing, “Two attacks in the ARC.”

“Two attacks you’ve survived,” Cutter said. “Others haven’t been so lucky. How is he?” he asked Hart. 

“I am here, you know,” I snapped, his words reminding me of what I had lost. “Maybe that’s the problem, maybe I’m invisible.”

“Lester?” Hart’s fingers gripped my chin gently and he turned my head until he could look at my eyes. “Did you hit your head?”

“What are you blathering on about?” I said as I wrenched my head from his grasp, wincing as my chest protested. 

Hart shook his head before we all jumped at a distant clang and whatever he had been about to say was forgotten. “Bloody hell,” Hart muttered instead before he hauled me to my feet without warning. My vision greyed out for a moment and I would have fallen except he unceremoniously slung my arm over his shoulder when I swayed. “Cover us,” he ordered Cutter before he half-dragged, half-supported me into the garage. 

It took several moments before I heard Cutter’s footsteps following us into the garage and then Cutter was hurrying past us to open his Hilux. I almost bit my lip through as I was helped into the back seat.

I raised an eyebrow when he walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in beside me, leaving Cutter to drive. “Hart?” I queried, having heard about Cutter’s driving ability, or rather lack of it, from multiple reports. 

“I know first aid,” Hart informed me before adding, “Cutter… doesn’t.”

“Fine,” I muttered, raising my voice for Cutter’s benefit, “Any damages are coming out of your wages.”

“We haven’t been paid in weeks,” Hart reminded me.

“A minor detail,” I drawled. “A mere oversight when the world is ending around us.” I turned my attention to Cutter. “Is there a reason we haven’t left yet?”

“Our lord-and-master has spoken, Nick,” Hart said before turning his attention back to my wound. I hissed as he prodded the dressing and applied more tape to it. “It should hold until we can get you proper medical treatment.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered. “Once we’ve found the anomaly, trampled through the Permian and found an anomaly to this ‘alternative reality’? How perfect.”

“Ready?” Cutter asked before reversing the car without waiting for an answer. I winced when he ground the gears before finding the one I assumed he was after and pulling away in a squeal of rubber, clearly demonstrating why no one liked him driving.

“Cutter?” I called out as we approached the barrier and he didn’t appear to be slowing down. I winced once more when he crashed into the barrier, smashing through it. Although I supposed he couldn’t very well get out to open it with who knew how many bloody Predators about, but I was very glad it wasn’t my Mercedes he was abusing.

I relaxed slightly when we cleared the main building of the ARC when I heard something land on the roof. Something large and I could hear claws scrabbling on the paintwork. My eyes widened when a Predator’s drooling, fang-filled face loomed through the window at me, only the scant protection of the glass between us. Its drool left a trail down the window as its claws scrapped shrilly on the glass as it tried to reach me. I could only watch, almost mesmerised, when I noticed the scratches appear on the glass and knew it was only a matter of time before the window shattered and...

I cried out, sliding on the seat as the car jolted forward, accelerating hard as Cutter put his foot down, and I couldn’t help think that on a normal day, Cutter would have crashed into another vehicle. Maybe the end of the world had its bright points after all, this was the fastest I had ever left the ARC at this time of day. Unfortunately, the Predator still clung on like an overgrown and unwanted limpet to the car, even if it was now using its claws to hang on rather than attempting to break in.

Cutter swore before yelling out, “Hang on.” Not that he gave me any time to grab onto anything before he spun the wheel hard, the Hilux spinning around and around. Pain lanced through my chest as I was thrown forward and towards the gaping maw of the Predator, at least I was until Cutter spun the wheel the other way and I slid into Hart. 

“Damn it, Nick,” Hart cried out and I felt him tug me into his arms. I struggled, attempting to free myself from his grasp. “Stay still,” Hart hissed in my ear as he moved slightly, placing his feet against the back of the front seat before pressing himself back into the seat. It took me longer than I was happy with to realise he was bracing both of us to protect us from Cutter’s so-called driving.

“Hart,” I managed before hissing as Cutter’s erratic driving had both Hart and myself sliding across the seat before Hart managed to stop us, a foot wedged in the back of the front passenger seat and the other against the door. 

“Is he OK?” Cutter yelled back.

“I’ve been better,” I replied, trying to relax my tense muscles. I frowned, knowing I should be concerned about something, cursing softly when I recalled what it was.

“Lester?” Hart asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” I said, hearing his disbelieving snort at my lie. “Where’s the Predator?”

“Still clinging on,” Cutter replied. “Stephen, hold on.”

“Why?” I asked before swearing as he suddenly braked, throwing me forwards once more and sending white-hot agony through my chest. I was barely aware of the Hilux accelerating away or of the slight bump as we ran over something.

***

The next time I woke it was dark and we appeared to be motoring at some speed down what I could only hope was a motorway. I stared out the window for a moment, watching a scant few headlights on the other carriageway. It took me a few moments to realise I was leaning against someone and I moved slightly away from them now we appeared to be travelling without Cutter’s excessive manoeuvrers.

“Back with us, Lester?” Cutter’s soft Scottish tones reached my ears and I realised he must have traded places with Hart. Fuck, how long had I been out?”

“Where are we?” I managed, my voice raspy. 

“Hold on,” Cutter muttered and I could hear him rummaging before I sighed when he held a bottle to my lips. 

“Don’t give him too much,” Hart’s voice carried back to me. “Not until I can check his injury.”

“Thanks,” I muttered but as much as I wanted to curse Cutter (for obeying that order) and Hart (for giving it), I wasn’t a fool when it came to first aid. I frowned as I remembered Cutter hadn’t answered my question. “Where are we?”

“On our way to the Forest of Dean,” Cutter told me, as if I’d forgotten that detail.

“I know that,” I snapped wearily. 

“Get some more sleep,” Hart ordered before Cutter could say a word.

I wasn’t willing to obey, my mind a whirl of thoughts and options, but I felt my eyes drift shut. I forced them open several times, even though I knew this could be the last safe sleep I would have before we ventured into the Permian and the unknown we would find if Cutter was correct about changing events. I could only hope that Cutter was right, but I couldn’t help the nagging doubt we would only change our own fate, not that of this world and those still alive who we would abandon to their doom. I stared out of the window blindly, lost in my guilt and regret.

***

“Lester?” A voice said.

“Come on, Lester, time to wake up.” A second voice spoke. 

I groaned and batted a hand from my face. 

“That’s it,” the first voice said. “You need to wake up, James.” I slowly recognised the voice as Cutter’s.

“Wha?” I’m sorry to say it was not the most articulate comment I had ever made.

“Open your eyes, James,” Cutter ordered.

Cutter hadn’t used my first name often, the first time was when Leek had held him… and with that recollection, memory came flooding back. I forced my eyes open to meet the worried gazes of both Cutter and Hart. I tried to sit up before pain lanced through my chest and left me panting. 

“Back with us?” That was Hart.

“What happened?” I managed, my voice croaky and my mind muddled. “Where are we?”

“How do you feel?” Cutter asked, his expression worried.

I indulged myself with an eye roll. “My chest hurts like blazes, Cutter, what do you think?”

“That if you can snark, you’ll be fine,” Cutter replied, earning himself a chuckle from Hart. 

I hissed slightly when Hart helped me to sit up. “Easy,” he muttered as he held a bottle against my lips. I drank as greedily as Hart allowed me to before repeated, “Where are we?”

Cutter muttered something I didn’t understand so I turned to look at Hart, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“We’re stuck,” Hart told me. 

“Stuck?” I repeated. “How are we stuck?”

“The bridge is out,” Hart said softly. 

“How?” I asked, although something nagged at my consciousness.

“That storm last night,” Cutter replied, sounding somewhat aggrieved, even if I had no idea why.

“The one that had you demanding we stop and that I took over the driving,” Hart added before snorting at my confused look. “And you obviously don’t remember saying that.”

I shook my head, I recalled some rain but not a storm. “Now what?”

Hart didn’t answer, instead he handed me an energy bar. “Eat it. You need the energy.”

I glanced at it in distaste before forcing myself to eat the bland and dry bar, only then realising how hungry I was. I knew I wouldn’t like the answer but I had to know. “Is there another road?”

“Not that won’t take us miles out of our way,” Hart replied. “And you did say there was a deadline.”

I might be a troubleshooter but I needed information to make decisions. “Options?” I asked, wincing slightly as I moved into a more comfortable position. I gratefully swallowed the water Hart allowed me to drink, washing the energy bar down. 

“We’ll have to get across here,” Cutter said, stating the blindingly obvious. “Stephen?”

“I’ve one idea,” Hart murmured, his gaze on the harpoon gun he’d kept and I had the horrible feeling I knew exactly what his plan was. “I can rig a Tyrolean traverse to get us across.” At Cutter’s blank look and my somewhat suspicious one, Hart continued, his words only confirming my worst fears. “I’ll use the harpoon gun to fire a line across,” he said. “If I aim for the trees, I should be able to tangle it in the branches before wedging the gun on this side.”

Hart’s words didn’t fill me with confidence and I just stared at him for a moment before finding my voice. “And how do you expect me to cross?” I noticed him scowl, although I couldn’t tell if it was at my question or the disbelief clear in my voice.

Hart looked thoughtful for a moment before he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll have to rig up a harness for you. Nick too. There should be something in the boot I can use.”

“Your confidence inspires us all,” I murmured, earning myself a chuckle from Cutter.

“Do you have a better idea?” Hart demanded.

I didn't so I shook my head and sighed. “Not at all, Dr Hart, please do continue.” I watched, curiosity despite my doubts, as Hart wandered up and down the riverbank and peered across, glancing occasionally at the trees on our side of the river. “Hart?”

“I do know what I’m doing, Lester,” Hart almost growled back at me.

“Excellent,” I replied. “But please remember we’re running out of time.”

Hart shot me a look before nodding. “This looks as good as any,” he muttered, once more filling me with confidence, before he aimed and fired. I watched the harpoon lance through the air to clatter amongst the branches of a tree. I held my breath when Hart tugged on the line, hoping that the harpoon didn’t slip free, for I had no idea if Hart would be able to reel it back in and try again.

“Got ya!” Hart crowed when the line held, no matter how much he tugged on it and he turned victorious eyes on me.

“Well done, Hart,” I murmured, before bursting his bubble by adding, “But we’re not across yet.”

Hart sobered before nodding. “Give me a moment,” he said as he wound some of the line around a tree and wedging the harpoon gun in firmly.

***

It took far less time than I wanted, even if I knew it was longer than we could afford to waste, for Hart to create his harness. It was a ramshackle affair constructed out of the webbing straps used to secure tranquillised animals for transport and I eyed it with distaste. I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it safe?”

Hart gave it several sharp tugs before declaring, “Seems to be.”

Cutter chuckled, presumably at the look on my face, and I couldn’t resist. “After you, Professor.”

Hart shook his head as he picked up a second rope. “I need to secure a second line first, plus someone needs to help you on this side and off once you’re across.”

“Fine,” I muttered, eyeing both Hart’s contraption and the rapidly flowing river with distaste. “But this had better work.”

“If it doesn’t, you can tell me so,” Hart shot back. “Providing you do it quickly.” He grinned before showing Cutter and I how to get into the harness and attach it to the rope. “OK?”

“No,” I said before meeting his gaze. “But we have no other choice, do we?”

“No,” Hart agreed. I watched as he wrapped a second rope around a large tree before tying it off. “Remember, you need to attach the harness to this line. It will hold better.”

“That fills me with so much confidence,” I replied, sobering when I saw the worry on Cutter’s face as he watched Hart swing onto the rope, the second rope trailing in the river as he began his crossing. I mused that the end of the world had one positive outcome in that it had made these two oblivious fools realise their mutual attraction.

My attention returned to the river at Cutter’s gasp and I quickly realised what had happened. Hart’s grip must have slipped for he was hanging onto the rope with only his legs, his hands trailing in the swift flowing water. I watched as he flexed his torso in an attempt to regain his grip and I dragged my thoughts away from his toned body and to the harpoon, hoping it held under Hart’s exertions. I gasped when the harpoon pulled free from some of the branches, sending Hart dangerously close to submersion in the river. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding when the harpoon caught once more. I returned my attention to Hart, smiling when I realised he had regained his grip and was now moving swiftly hand over hand, even if he was still, in my opinion, hanging precariously upside down from the rope. 

Cutter almost slumped to his knees when Hart’s feet touched the sodden ground on the other side of the river and I knew without a doubt that they had kissed and made up and I really didn’t want to think about that, not only was I not a voyeur but it brought back memories of my own long-dead lover.

“Ready?” Cutter asked and I had to wonder how long I’d been lost in my bitter-sweet memories when he gently shook my shoulder and repeated, “James? Are you OK?” I shook my head to scatter those memories and found myself staring into Cutter’s eyes when he lifted my chin. “James?”

I took a deep, somewhat shaky breath and nodded. “Just wool-gathering,” I murmured when I saw the concern in his eyes. I closed my own eyes when I saw the sudden understanding in his gaze, cursing when the professor had become so observant.

“Come on, James,” Cutter said, thankfully deciding discretion was a good idea for once, and helped me to stand up.

I gripped the second rope while Cutter snapped the carabiner onto it, and wondered how the hell I was supposed to do this. As it was, I gave a mostly suppressed yelp when Cutter grabbed one of my legs. “Unhand me, Cutter!”

“Can you get your leg over without my help?” Cutter said before blushing furiously. 

I admit I couldn’t help but chuckle at his unfortunately comment. “I’m perfectly capable of doing so, Cutter,” I informed him haughtily, although I found myself unable to resist seeing how much he would blush and added, “However, that is with my lover, not a rope.” Cutter just stared at me, his mouth open as he turned beet-red and I felt a grin tug at my lips before I laughed, clutching at my chest as it bloody hurt to do so, no matter how much I… no, looking at Cutter as the man laughed, how much we needed it. 

“I don’t want to know,” Cutter muttered, regaining control of his laughter if not his blushing, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, do you need me to help?”

I sobered as well, especially when I heard Hart shouting at us to get a move on. “If you would be so kind, Professor.” It bloody hurt and I took several seconds to regain my composure once I had my legs wrapped around the rope. I hoped I didn’t look too undignified as I hung upside down from the rope, dangling in the harness Hart had made. 

“James?” Cutter’s voice cut through my musings. “Are you ready?”

I frowned at him before I felt a tug and realised Hart planned to haul me over like a sack of potatoes. I might be injured, I might not be sure how much I could help or even if I could, but I’d be damned before I didn’t try. I winced when I reached up for the rope and hauled on it, moving myself a scant inch and gasping as that action sent pain through my body. 

Nick’s grasped my arm, untangling my fingers from the rope. “Let Stephen do it, James.” When I hesitated, Nick added, “Please, James.”

I sighed before reluctantly nodding, I knew I’d be no use to them or myself if I passed out midway. I forced the fingers of my other hand to let go of the rope, although I grasped the harness instead, needing to hold on to something and felt Cutter squeeze my arm. “Hart!” He bellowed, almost making me hiss as I jumped. “We’re good to go.”

I felt myself tugged forward a foot or so before I stopped, I frowned before moving another foot and realised that Hart needed to change his grip on the rope between pulls. Without needing to concentrate on dragging myself across I found my attention drawn to the raging torrent beneath my head and swallowed hard as I watched a log float straight towards me. 

I heard Cutter yell out a warning to Hart and then I was yanked forward, gasping as my chest ached from the sudden jolt and feeling the log brush against me. The urge to grab the rope and help was almost overwhelming but I knew I’d be more of a hindrance than a help. 

Still, I was exhausted by the time I reached the other side of the river and only got out of the harness with Hart’s help. I could barely stand as the adrenalin rush faded and it was only Hart’s arms which stopped me collapsing unceremoniously to the ground. As it was, I felt him ease me against a tree and I was so grateful of being able to rest that I didn’t even complain about the sodden ground ruining my suit. He pressed a bottle of water into my shaking hands, ordering me to sip it slowly while he helped Cutter across. I took the vastly shorter time it took Cutter to make it over to regain my breath and to consider our options. 

“Rest time's over, Lester,” Cutter told me as he grabbed my arm to haul me to my feet. “Time to go.”

I shook my head and resisted his pull. 

“James?” Cutter said concerned as he dropped to his knees beside me. “Stephen!” 

Hart joined us and I hissed as he checked my dressings once more. “We can rest when we’re through the anomaly.”

I shook my head. “Leave me here.”

“Lester?”

“I’ll just slow you down,” I informed them. “Especially if we meet something big and nasty with teeth.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Cutter declared. 

I glared at him. “I would hope not.” I watched him relax until I added, “There’s a cottage over there that looks adequate.”

“I said we’re not leaving you here,” Cutter repeated. 

“Give up, Lester, you know how stubborn Nick is,” Hart chipped in, earning himself a glare from Cutter. 

“You have to stop the Predators and I’ll only slow you down,” I repeated, trying to get them to understand. “That’s the only thing that matters.”

Hart snorted. “And you call me a martyr.”

“I call you an idiotic martyr.” In my opinion, Hart was. I was making a logical choice when I was out of options, Hart wouldn’t even have considered any other possibility before sacrificing himself. “I’m making the call for the good of the mission.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester, Nick and Stephen make it to the Permian, but their plans go somewhat awry before they end up back in the Forest of Dean. But have they managed to change events?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to fififolle for the beta.

“Are you?” Cutter asked quietly. “Just as well I don’t follow your orders.” 

Cutter grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet without warning, causing me to cry out and for my vision to grey. “Cutter,” I said when I had regained some measure of control. 

“Save your breath,” Hart advised as he grabbed my backpack as well as his own and I belatedly realised he must have crossed the river to retrieve them.

“Cutter!” I tried once more, knowing the mission was more important that one life and paused, wondering if this was how Hart thought. I shook my head before repeating. “I’ll slow you down.”

Cutter, somewhat to my surprise, replied, “You can either walk or we’ll carry you.” 

“Or Nick can just drop you in the mud first and then we’ll drag you,” Hart added.

I glared at Hart, even if I couldn’t really spare the energy, meeting his challenging look before Cutter took a step forward and I followed him. I ignored Hart’s chuckle, instead concentrating on walking, for even if my suit was beyond reprieve, I had little wish to end up sprawled in the mud.

***

I had no idea how much time had passed since the river, all I knew was that I was managing to put one foot in front of the other while being half-supported, half-dragged by Cutter down a barely there path while trying not to trip over any roots. The last one I had tripped over had torn a gasp from me and had almost dragged Cutter down with me when my knees had buckled. I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard Cutter’s voice in my ear. “Stop, James,” He murmured. “We’re here.”

“Where?” I asked, my mind feeling sluggish.

“The anomaly site,” Hart replied. “ Let's get you comfortable and we can rest.”

As much as resting sounded wonderful, something nagged in the back of my mind. I frowned when I realised the wood was silent. Not a single bird called out, not a single animal moved, as if they understood the danger which would all too soon descend upon all of us. I jolted out of the daze I had fallen into, reaching out almost blindly and grabbing an arm. “No time.”

“Drink,” Hart murmured and I licked my lips when I felt a bottle against them. “Slowly,” Hart added. 

“The anomaly isn’t open yet,” Cutter added, explaining why we were resting and showing me just how out of it I was. 

I still couldn’t settle or rest, every time my eyes drifted closed they shot open again, my gaze turning towards London as I waited for the end to begin. We were running out of time and if the anomaly didn’t open soon, all would be lost. 

“Rest, James,” Cutter said as he joined me to lean back against a tree. “It might be the last time you have a chance.”

I opened my mouth to snap at him that I knew that, but I didn’t. I knew he knew I knew. I turned my attention back to where the anomaly would – should open and asked the other question that had kept me from relaxing. “How do we know it will take us to the right time?”

“I don’t,” Cutter admitted. “But we can always try again.”

“At least until the bombs drop,” Hart pointed out. 

“Couldn’t we just stay in the Permian?” I asked.

Cutter shook his head. “We know the anomaly opens to two different times in the Permian, what we don’t know is how many years apart they are. Ryan’s,” he paused when I winced at his words. “The graves we found at the camp were decades old, if not more.” 

“It’s got to be better than staying here,” I replied, my gaze once more drawn back towards London.

“Why don’t we have a look around once we get through and decide then?” Hart said, putting his two-pence in and acting as a mediator between myself and Cutter.

Cutter frowned, opened his mouth, noticed Hart’s worried expression and turned back to me, his gaze considering, before he nodded. “OK.” 

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know what Hart was thinking, or Cutter for that matter, what I did know was that I was finding it harder and harder to resist my need to sleep.

***

I woke to hands gently shaking me and I found myself gazing at the whirling, shattered shards of an open anomaly. “Where does it open to?”

Cutter didn’t reply, instead he tensed and I realised the anomaly was rippling as if someone – something was coming through. Cutter crouched beside me, pointing my pistol at the anomaly and I could only hope whatever came through the anomaly was friendly or at least not actively wanting to eat me. 

“It opens to the Permian,” Hart declared as he stepped back through, raising his hands slightly when he realised Cutter was aiming at him. “Hey, Nick, it’s me.”

Cutter gave a strange noise, a sudden exhale of air mixed with… I wasn’t quite sure what. Not that I wondered for long, rather closing my eyes and doing my best to ignore their reunion, after all, there were some things I didn’t want to see. 

After several seconds and noises which threatened to harm my mental health, I cleared my throat noisily. “Gentlemen, can I remind you that there is an imminent nuclear strike...” I only risked opening my eyes again when I heard a muttered curse and met the unrepentant gaze of Hart. My gaze drifted to the flushed-looking Cutter and I decided I really didn’t want to know. “Chop, chop, gentlemen.”

I soon had cause to regret my words when both men hauled me to my feet, the world greying out once more as I swayed in their grasp. I gathered what was left of my strength and took as much of my own weight as I could. I nodded to both men and took a step towards the anomaly. 

“Wait,” Hart called out. “Let me go back through with the kit first. If I don’t come back, follow me through.”

I just managed to bite back the snark that Hart was still a bloody martyr and instead took the opportunity to take one final look at the world I was leaving behind. 

“Time's up,” Cutter muttered.

I didn’t reply, for I knew he was not really talking to me. Instead I took another step towards the anomaly and swallowed. I had hoped my first trip through would be to somewhere safe, with well-armed soldiers at my side for protection, not into a world full of predators with only the dubious protection provided by a mad-cap scientist and his suicidally-inclined assistant. Actually, I had hoped never to step foot through one, I had enough cold-blooded and remorseless enemies in this time without adding prehistoric ones. 

That being said, I still reached out a hand in curiosity, my fingertips just brushing a spinning shard and I shivered at the sensation of not-cold. I heard Cutter’s amused snort at my reaction and determinately stepped into the anomaly. The not-cold sent tingles along my nerves and I gasped as I stepped through. The muddy and dank Forest of Dean had become dry desert heat and I couldn’t help looking around like a child. I quickly gathered both my wits and facade before I moved further into the Permian, after all, I had no idea if radiation would leak through these bloody holes in time. 

The sand shifted beneath my feet and I knew my shoes would be good only for the bin if we ever returned home, even if home wouldn’t really be home. I shook my head, no need to tempt a migraine to add to my woes. Instead, I forced myself to concentrate and took a more analytical look around. It all looked the same – sand and rocks with sparse vegetation. “Which way, Professor?” I asked, the fear I already knew the answer being confirmed when he didn’t reply instantly. “I see.”

“I think it is that way,” Cutter finally replied. 

“Really?” I said. 

“I’m reasonably certain,” Cutter said and I could hear the defensiveness in his voice. 

“Excellent,” I said before easing myself onto the ground, trying not to think of where all the sand would end up and ruing the loss of yet another suit to this project. 

“James?” Cutter sounded worried and knelt beside me. 

“I’m fine.” I raised an eyebrow at him before adding, “May I remind you that this is the other side of the anomaly and I’m taking the opportunity to rest.” 

Hart snorted, obviously remembering that they had both promised I could do so. Cutter just sighed and shook his head before passing me the water bottle. “Five minutes.” 

I shook my head. “Oh no, Professor,” I said. “I’m not about to slog through this sand just for you to tell me we’re in the wrong time and have to come back here.”

“He has a point.” Hart spoke both reluctantly and apologetically.

“Fine,” Cutter snapped. “I’ll go and find it.”

“Nick!” 

“No, Stephen, I have to go, I’m the only one who saw the camp.”

“Excellent,” I said. “Oh, and Cutter.”

“Yes?”

“Do try and keep from getting eaten.” I ignored the twin looks both men shot me as I attempted to find a comfortable position on the sand. “Are you still here, Cutter? Chop, chop.”

***

I wasn’t aware of falling asleep or of having been moved, but knew I must have been when I opened my eyes and found myself in a patch of vegetation and rocks. I felt water dripped into my parched mouth and licked my dry lips.

“Easy,” Hart’s voice spoke softly in my ear. “Now, I need to you try and eat something.”

“Not another bloody energy bar,” I groused back, although it was breathless at best, and I managed only a few bites. 

“We’ll rest here until you’re stronger,” Cutter announced and as much as I wanted to argue that we didn’t have time, I lacked the strength. I realised I must have said something when his hand gripped my arm and he added, “We’re in the past, James, we've all the time in the world.”

I was unsure of how many days we tarried, only knowing it had been several. Days I was not sure we had to spare and I couldn’t help the guilt which gripped me. I had known I would slow them down when I had told them to leave me behind, knowing it would be my fault if we failed. 

I had taken to short walks to build my strength, even if I still tired easily. It was dusk and I chose to take a different path than usual, one that I had seen Hart and Cutter take and return looking grim. I stopped and stared at the sight, bowing my head at the graves, and knew this was one more thing I hadn’t prevented. 

I heard movement behind me but didn’t react, not until I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder and heard Cutter’s voice, soft for once. “This isn’t your fault, James.”

“If we’d been faster.” If they hadn’t dragged me along with them, if they’d left me at the ARC or even that bloody cottage, they might have been in time. They might have saved Ry… the soldiers. 

“They were dead before we got here,” Cutter informed me. “We think about a week. Before we left the ARC in our own timeline.” 

“Nick?” Hart called out, his voice edged with worry. “Where are you?”

“At the graves,” Cutter called back. 

Hart skidded down the slope and I frowned at the grey creature in his hand. “One of the babies?” I had forgotten in my grief and guilt that we had needed to hunt them down. That the waiting hadn’t only been for me to gain strength served to lift some of the guilt from my shoulders. Some but not all for I had still failed. If only I’d realised Leek was a traitor, if only I had ordered Helen shot on sight, if only… there were so many and I cut those thoughts off, for only madness lay that way. 

“The last baby,” Hart declared. “Time to go home.”

I nodded. Time to see if we had changed anything, for if these graves had been here for a week before we’d arrived… that was a week for the baby Predators to change whatever it was they had changed the first time. In that case, our trip back in time would have been for nothing. Unless we arrived back earlier than the bunker incident and all this thinking about time was making my head ache. 

The roar of something large shattered the air and scattered my increasingly bleak thoughts. I turned towards the sound, gasping at the large Gorgonopsid standing on the top of a nearby hill. The wind blew the stench of rotting meat towards us and I knew if the wind changed direction that the beast would smell us. 

Cutter grabbed my arm and tugged me slowly back up the path, away from the graves and back to the campsite. Hart waited for a moment before following us, his gaze never leaving the Gorgonopsid until we were over the hill and out of its sight. He shouldered what I assumed was his backpack and shoved a second at Cutter. “We need to go,” Hart muttered. 

I bit back my comment about him stating the obvious when I heard the Gorgonopsid roar again, closer this time, and realised that even if the wind didn’t change that it was still heading towards us. It took me far longer than I was happy with to realise Hart had left my backpack in the camp and I stopped. “My backpack.”

“We’ve got enough supplies,” Hart informed me. “It will only slow us down,” he added when I still didn’t move.

“My briefcase is in it,” I informed him.

Hart gave me a look of disbelief. “We’ll get you a new one.”

“Assuming you don’t already have the same briefcase through the anomaly,” Cutter added.

Bloody hell, they didn’t understand, I wasn’t after it merely because it had been expensive. “It’s got the proof in it.” 

“Fuck!” Hart said, glancing back towards our camp before nodding. “Keep going,” he ordered Cutter. 

“Stephen?” Cutter said, reaching out a hand and if I hadn’t already known they were together, I would have to be blind not to see it now.

“I’ll be fine,” Hart said, glancing at me for a moment before stepping into Cutter’s personal space and kissing him, hard. 

I waited several seconds before clearing my throat. “Gentlemen.”

Hart and Cutter reluctantly pulled apart before Hart nodded. “Take care of him, Lester.”

I fixed Hart with my haughtiest look. “Cutter?” I murmured, distaste clear in my voice. “Oh no, my dear boy, he’s your responsibility. Are you still here?”

Hart grinned before dashing back the way we’d come and I could only hope he reached the camp before the Gorgonopsid, otherwise all our efforts would be in vain. I had little time to worry for Cutter forced me to walk and putting one foot in front of the other took all my concentration and strength. 

“Thank fuck!” 

I heard Cutter exclaim and then I felt my free arm slung over a shoulder and I found myself half-dragged across the desert. I had to assume Hart had returned with, I hoped, my briefcase, but I had no energy left to enquire. 

Every breath hurt now and I knew I was slowing my companions down. I didn’t have the breath to spare to suggest they left me behind, not when I knew they wouldn’t, not with the Gorgonopsid following us. I could almost feel its breath on my neck and knew it had to be gaining on us far too quickly for my peace of mind. 

I felt someone – Hart I believe – turn, dragging myself and Cutter with him, and then we were slogging up a slope. I forced my disobedient feet to obey, one foot in front of the other, but I was rapidly running out of reserves and couldn’t say I was surprised when my knees buckled. I heard the grunts of my companions and felt myself dragged forwards.

***

Sudden cold roused me and I shivered as the spinning shards of an anomaly caressed my skin. I could only hope that it led back to the Forest of Dean, that and that someone was waiting on the other side with weapons.

And then I was through, feeling the damp of an English summer refreshing on my skin after the desert heat, and found myself dragged to one side before I was allowed to collapse onto my knees, my chest aching as I gasped for breath. I heard Hart yell out “Incoming” and heard the welcome sound of gunfire. 

“Nick?” I heard Ms Lewis... or possibly Ms Brown if we had made it to Cutter’s original timeline, asked Cutter. “Where's Helen?”

“Helen,” I mumbled beneath my breath, frowning for I recalled Helen had returned with Cutter… was that the change we had made to the timeline?

“She didn't come back?” Cutter asked, sounding puzzled and I knew he was wondering whether we’d made it back and who he was talking to. I just hoped he didn’t ask, for that would rather bugger our plan up. 

“No. You didn’t see her when you found Lester?”

I tuned out their conversation when my gaze fell on one of the soldiers and I just stared at Ryan. Had we travelled that far back that he was still alive or had he not died in the Permian on this timeline? I had to know and called out his name, only for Hart to squeeze my shoulder in warning as he hissed for me to be careful. I wasn’t a fool and wouldn’t let slip we were from another timeline… I frowned when the implications of what Ryan had said sunk into my befuddled brain – my double had been rather conveniently kidnapped, allowing me to just step into his life. Either the universe was conspiring with us or someone else – Helen my mind helpfully provided – was… and well, I rather doubted she was aiding us for the good of humanity. So… if Helen was behind it, what was her game and could we stop it? That thought had me attempting, and failing, to stand. Instead I slumped back to my knees, one hand pressed against my aching chest, and felt hands tighten on my shoulders once more. 

“Easy, sir,” Ryan said, his hands squeezing my shoulder before he turned and roared, “Ditzy! Get your arse over here!” 

I smiled, hoping that meant his concern was for more than his commanding officer… but I also knew I’d have to wait for him to make the first move, even after the months without him in my life. I frowned, if I was right about us being together, I would need all my faculties if I was to deceive him, for he was no fool and I was not the man he had held in his arms so many times before. Not that I liked the thought of lying to Ryan but, well, it wouldn’t be the first time I had lied to a lover. I just hoped this time would end better for both of us. 

“Here, boss,” Ditzy said, and his cold hands both interrupted my musings and had me wincing as he examined my chest. “Easy, sir,” he muttered as my skin twitched beneath his fingers. 

“Ditzy?” Ms Lewis… Brown… whoever she was said, and I shook my aching head, questions of existence were definitely something to be puzzled over another day. Whoever she was sounded worried as she asked, “How is Sir James?”

I smiled softly, Cutter had muttered that I’d been knighted in his timeline, I believe in an attempt to rile me. I had so many questions that needed to be answered so I could plan our next move in this game with Helen, but I knew from the greyness creeping into my vision that I wouldn’t be able to obtain those answers, not yet anyway. All I could hope was that Cutter and Hart could improvise and that they remembered to inform me of what they’d said. I snorted softly, remembering that they never obeyed orders. As I reluctantly surrendered to unconsciousness, I thought I heard Ryan’s voice, soft in my ear, even if I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t wishful thinking. “I’ve got you, James.”


End file.
